


Foolish Preparation

by miss_whimsy



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Emma AU, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25430893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_whimsy/pseuds/miss_whimsy
Summary: Margo Hanson is young, rich, beautiful and independent. Whatever her happy ending looks like, she's going to earn it on her own. Eliot Waugh might need some help though.
Relationships: Margo Hanson/Alice Quinn, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Magicians-style Emma-AU for [Olya](https://twitter.com/kleopatraseIene). I hope you like it!
> 
> Part 2 and 3 will be posted next week.
> 
> A huge thank you to [skywardsmiles](http://archiveofourown.org/users/skywardsmiles) as always for the beta and cheerleading.

**Prologue**

Margo Hanson was a very happy young woman. She had lived a peaceful twenty-four years in St Lawrence with her father and governess and, following the death of the former and now the marriage of the latter, was the sole occupant of a manor house that the locals affectionately called The Cottage.

She rested her head against the padded carriage interior and thought about the first time she had seen Julia. It had only been one month since her mother had died and her father had sequestered himself in his study to grieve, giving little thought to what Margo needed or wanted at that time. All of twelve years old, she’d been furious when the pretty young woman had shown up on the doorstep and announced herself as Margo’s new governess.

Julia Wicker was only eighteen herself, though she often seemed older and wiser than anyone else; she was beautiful and had a warm heart and a big smile, but she’d been a brilliant and formidable teacher and she’d never, ever let Margo get away with anything. Margo adored her and from very early in their acquaintance had considered Julia to be the big sister she’d never had.

For as long as she could remember, Margo had never wanted to fall in love. She knew this was strange, especially for a wealthy young lady such as herself but the idea had never interested her. She had a good life, filled with balls and dinner parties, looking after the tenants and spending time with her friends. She couldn’t imagine why anyone needed more than that and that, she knew, was why people considered her odd.

She didn’t care what anyone thought of her.

When her father died, Margo had hoped that Julia felt the same way and they would pass their lives happily together, doing their needlework in the summer and reading by the cosy fire in the winter, two eccentric yet well respected old maids.

But fate was never one to dance to someone else’s tune and only sixteen months earlier, Kady Orlaff-Diaz had arrived back in town from her grand tour of the continent, and swept Julia off her feet and out of Margo’s life.

The wedding that morning had been a small and intimate affair, with only close family and personal friends in attendance. Margo had met Julia’s brother, Quentin, for the first time and after twelve years of hearing Julia praise him to the skies, he hadn’t been at all what she was expecting. He was, Julia said, a teacher at a boys’ school in the north but Margo couldn’t picture it. He looked no older than eighteen, though he was in fact twenty-six, and he spent most of the time with his head down or staring off into the distance. Upon Margo grasping both of his hands in friendly greeting, he’d stuttered out a nervous hello, blushed bright red, and then spent the rest of the day avoiding her which Margo was thought was equal parts rude and idiotic.  
Now, Margo returned to The Cottage and as she stepped inside, for the first time in her life, she felt truly alone. She settled down in the library window-seat with a glass of wine and her favourite Fillory book and endeavoured to push away the creeping melancholia. 

“Did you cry?”

It took a tremendous amount of control for Margo not to spill her wine.

“Of course not,” she said, shooting an imperious look across the room at her oldest friend. 

“Is there a reason you’re loitering in the doorway?”

Alice swept quickly across the room and settled down on the other side of the window seat. 

“You know I like to make an entrance.”

“You missed the wedding.” Margo poured Alice a glass of wine and tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

“I’ll apologise to Julia and Kady tomorrow,” Alice said, taking the wine with a word of thanks. “It couldn’t be helped. Emily went into labour and Charlie needed some support.”

Margo looked at Alice properly for the first time and noticed her dishevelled hair and hunched shoulders. “So, you’re an Aunt at last.”

Alice smiled into her wine glass. “Of a beautiful nephew. George.”

Margo used her own glass to hide the wrinkle of her nose. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Tell me about the wedding.”

Margo spent a long time detailing the wedding in full, down to the new celebrant’s peculiarities, after which Alice shared the last two days with her brother, his extremely flighty wife, and her new nephew.

They each had a second glass of wine and then, before they knew it, the clock on the mantle was chiming midnight.

“Oh, my goodness! I hadn’t intended to stay this long.”

Margo waved away Alice’s exclamations and set their empty glasses down on a table.

“You can stay here. No one is expecting you to go home at this hour.”

“Are you sure, Margo?”

It was, Margo thought, an incredibly silly question. Alice had stayed the night before, just as Margo had frequently stayed with Alice at Remington. Instead of answering, Margo took Alice’s hand and led her upstairs, wishing the footmen goodnight as they passed each of them.

She tossed Alice a nightdress and shimmied out of her own clothes and into an oversized nightshirt that might have been indecorous but there was no one but Alice there to see and admonish her for it. She slipped between the sheets and hummed to herself, watching the shadows on the ceiling cast by the flickering bedside candle.

“We’re possibly too old for sleepovers,” Alice whispered when she finally climbed into bed. “I should sleep in my own room.”

Margo was about to remind Alice that keeping a room specifically for the few times Alice stayed over was wasteful in the extreme when there was nothing wrong with Margo’s bed as far as she could see, but she was overtaken at the last by a yawn which they then passed back and forth between them, sleepy and amused.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Margo murmured at length and then, closing her eyes, she snuggled closer into Alice’s side. “Sleep now. Everything else can wait.”

If Alice answered, Margo didn’t hear it. She was asleep in seconds.

**Autumn**

It was late September and the leaves had just begun to turn; the weather was still warm, but the days were growing shorter. It was Margo’s favourite time of year, not least because of the sudden upturn in dinner invitations.

Julia had decided to initiate a weekly gathering of her friends and Margo was delighted to see her on a regular basis, having spent the last month waiting despondently for her to return from her honeymoon.

At least, despondent was the word Alice had used. Margo may have raised her voice telling her exactly what she thought of that description. Alice had merely looked amused and wholly unapologetic.

The evening of the party, Margo set out in her brand new, sunshine-yellow evening gown with high hopes of monopolising Julia and Alice for the night. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Kady – on the contrary, she thought that Kady and Julia were an excellent match – it was just that she missed her friend and Kady got to have Julia to herself every day now.

However as soon as she stepped inside, Julia grabbed her hand and led her across the room to a young man she’d never seen before who was engrossed in a conversation with – of all people – Julia’s brother, Quentin.

“Margo, you remember my brother.”

Quentin blushed and Margo gave the briefest of nods.

“And this is Eliot Waugh. He has just moved to St Lawrence to live with his cousin.”

Eliot stood and took her hand, bowing over it as she curtsied. He was tall and handsome, with a riotous crown of curls atop his head that Margo thought gave him a roguish air.

“Miss Hanson, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Margo glanced at Julia and then beamed at Eliot. “How do you do, Mr Waugh? Are you enjoying St Lawrence thus far?”

“I am enjoying it very much. Everyone has been so kind and welcoming.”

Julia smiled and then hurried off to greet the latest guest. Margo tucked her hand into the crook of Eliot’s arm and then, without a word or backward glance at Quentin, led him away across the room to fetch a glass of punch.

Eliot started to protest, half turning his body back towards the sofa they’d just left, but Margo squeezed his hand and beamed at him.

“I just know we’re going to be best friends.”

That seemed to do that trick and Eliot’s attention was once again focused on her. She poured them each a glass and led him over to a seat by the fire.

“Tell me all about yourself.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything worth telling,” he said, sipping his punch with a contented little sigh. “I grew up in the West Country. My parents are…” He looked around quickly to be sure no one was listening and then lowered his voice. “Farmers.”

“Good Heavens,” Margo gasped, her free hand flying up to cover her mouth. “That is…”

“My cousin, however, is a doctor and I thought…”

“Doctor Hoberman?”

“Do you know him?”

“Of course, she knows me,” Josh said, choosing that moment to join them. “What ho, Margo?”

“That never gets any funnier, Hoberman.”

Josh laughed anyway and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m glad to see you’re getting to know Eliot. He’s a good boy.”

Eliot could only have been a couple of years younger than Josh, if Margo knew anything about anything.

“Go away,” Margo said firmly. “We’re talking.”

Josh laughed again, good-naturedly, and wandered away.

“I apologise,” Eliot said. “That wasn’t…”

“Don’t apologise,” Margo said, covering Eliot’s hand with her own. “I’m quite used to him. He used to visit my father regularly before he died. He always treated him with the greatest care, so I’m inclined to be forgiving.”

Eliot smiled and Margo smiled back and just like that, she thought, they were friends.

Eliot had never felt so content. Everyone had been so nice to him since he arrived in St Lawrence; his cousin in particular who had helped him purchase new clothes and hadn’t even blinked when Eliot had selected the bright colours or intricate patterns. Now, wearing smart evening dress including a lilac waistcoat that would have given his father a fit, he was attending a dinner party with people who didn’t consider him strange or pretentious. He could be himself for the first time in his life.

Margo Hanson, in particular, had been exceedingly gracious, assuring him, after only ten minutes in her company, that they were now best friends. He knew from Josh that Margo was the most respected person in the county and to have her favour was something he never would have dreamed of and valued beyond reason.

And then of course, there was Quentin.

As soon as they had arrived at the party, Josh had set about introducing him to everyone and Eliot had focused his energy on learning everyone’s name and making a good first impression. After ten minutes, believing that he’d done all he could, Josh had disappeared to find Kady and Eliot had been left alone, unsure what he was supposed to do next.

“You can sit here if you’d like.”

Eliot turned on the spot and found himself looking down at a young man, sitting on a small bench with his back pressed against the wall as though he was trying to melt into it. There was enough space for Eliot to sit down, but only just. The man shuffled to his left slightly to make room.

“Thank you,” Eliot said, unsure what else to say in the circumstances, and sat. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid we weren’t introduced.”

“People tend to forget about me,” the young man said with a shrug and held out his hand. “Quentin Coldwater. I’m Julia’s brother.” 

“Eliot Waugh,” Eliot replied, taking Quentin’s hand. “I thought Julia’s name was…”

“It’s a complicated story.”

“I don’t mean to pry.”

“I don’t mind sharing it,” Quentin said. His eyes twinkled with amusement and he smiled for the first time. “It might not be genteel conversation for a dinner party, however. I never can tell.”

Eliot grinned. “As this is my first ever party, I’m afraid I can’t help.”

“First one ever?” Quentin chuckled. “Well, lucky for you it’s one of Julia’s. She always throws the best parties, but please don’t tell Miss Hanson I said that.”

“I haven’t met Miss Hanson yet, so I can promise I won’t tell.”

Quentin was unlike anyone he’d ever met before. He was quiet and clearly uncomfortable in public, but he seemed happy to remain focused on Eliot, drawing him out, encouraging him to talk about his interests – his love of art and fashion, which Quentin readily admitted to knowing little about. He was well-read and confessed he could quite happily live forever in a library.

His eyes were warm and sparkled when he talked animatedly about his favourite books. He was generous with his smiles which Eliot thought made him look even more handsome. Eliot was delighted by him.

They talked for no more than twenty minutes, yet Eliot felt like they’d been talking this way all their lives and he’d have been quite happy to remain at Quentin’s side all evening.  
Of course, that was the moment Margo had arrived and spirited him away.

Eliot, Margo had decided, was a very sweet boy in need of a mentor and there was no better mentor to be had than Margo herself. As such, it was her duty to steer Eliot away from relationships that would do him more harm than good and after thirty minutes in his company, Margo knew that his sudden (and bewildering) affection for Julia’s brother would cause nothing but trouble.

“Darling, I’m sure he’s very sweet but don’t limit yourself right out of the gate. There are many attractive young men who would only be too happy to have your attention.”

Eliot seemed about to protest to something that Margo had said and since she couldn’t imagine what that could possibly be, she decided the best course of action was to prove that she was correct.

She took Eliot’s arm and steered him across the room towards Alice and…

“Mr Todd. I’m so pleased to see you here this evening. Please allow me to introduce my new friend, Eliot Waugh.”

Todd stammered a greeting and shook hands with Eliot. Margo beamed at both of them and met Alice’s quizzical look with a raised chin and a wink.

“Hello, Alice.”

“Margo,” Alice greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “what mischief are you about?”

“No mischief,” she replied, wrapping one arm around Alice’s waist. “When have I ever caused mischief?”

Alice rolled her eyes in a most unladylike manner and Margo cackled wickedly, earning herself a few disapproving looks but not from anyone she cared about and before Alice could say another word, dinner was served.

Mr Todd would not have been Margo’s first choice for a match for Eliot, but needs must when the devil drives and sadly there was a severe shortage of eligible young men in St Lawrence. Todd was someone that Margo barely tolerated but he was certainly preferable to Julia’s awkward brother.

“I don’t understand,” Eliot asked her as they lay together in the garden at The Cottage a week after their first meeting. “Quentin was so kind to me. What exactly is there not to like about him?”

Margo bristled slightly. She didn’t know how to put into words how she felt about Quentin so she changed the subject.

“Mr Todd asked after you both times I saw him this week.”

Eliot’s head rolled towards hers. “He did?”

Margo hid her smile. What Eliot needed of course was the attention of people who could mould him into the person he had the potential to be. No, Todd was not as beautiful as Quentin was, but he was respectable and well-liked in the community. Quentin had only visited St Lawrence twice in ten years as far as she knew. What kind of brother wouldn’t even visit his sister even once a year? Eliot didn’t have to marry Todd after all, but he was a far more suitable object of his affection.

“He did. He told me he’d enjoyed meeting you and asked how you were settling in. I think he’d like to spend more time with you, if you were interested in that? I could invite him here sometime and we could spend a pleasant afternoon together.”

“If you think so Margo,” Eliot said easily. “Thank you.”

Which was how Margo found herself four days later, at Todd’s urging, positioning Eliot in her favourite spot in the garden, so she could paint him as the Greek god Apollo complete with bow and arrow.

Luckily for Margo, Eliot was a dream to paint. He stood as positioned, staring out across the flowerbeds, looking every bit as divine as Apollo himself. In another life she might even have been tempted by him. They talked together easily, a shared love of art and music giving them lots to discuss. Todd hovered in the background, occasionally interjecting his opinion and being summarily ignored. 

Eliot seemed to enjoy the attention which Margo considered to be a win, even if she’d caught him rolling his eyes at Todd more than once. She couldn’t really blame him though. Todd’s inane chatter was something she could happily do without.

“Oh yes,” Todd exclaimed at one point, well into the second hour of painting. 

Margo, who had been discussing the new fashion for ankle-length dresses with Eliot, startled and a green streak flew across the page, ruining the tree she was currently working on and narrowly missing Eliot’s likeness.

“What on earth?” she exclaimed, turning to glare at him with the full fury she felt at a day now mostly wasted. 

“I apologise, Miss Hanson,” Todd said quickly, holding his arms up in front of him as though they would deflect the majority of her anger. “I was just going to say how wonderful it was. That you’ve captured Mr Waugh’s essence so completely.”

Margo looked back at her painting, only slightly mollified by Todd’s words. It wasn’t her best work by any means and she’d gotten Eliot’s nose all wrong. And that was before the giant daub of green paint.

“It was better before you spooked me.”

“I like it,” Todd said, stepping closer now it seemed that Margo wasn’t going to attack him. “It accentuates the beauty of his eyes and innate free-spiritedness.”

Margo said nothing, simply shooed him further away and smiled across the garden at Eliot with a quirked eyebrow and bit her lip at the wide smile now settled upon his face.

Two more hours and they were finished. Eliot praised Margo’s work and didn’t mention his nose which she thought was as good a sign of friendship as she’d ever received in her life. Todd went into raptures and Margo knew she couldn’t continue for much longer without a glass of wine.

It was only half-past four. Tea would have to do.

“Miss Hanson,” Todd said, when they settled in the parlour with tea and a selection of cakes, “please allow me to have today’s painting framed. At my own expense of course.”

Eliot choked on his tea and Margo patted his knee in sympathy. 

“Of course, Mr Todd, if you’d like to. That would be delightful, wouldn’t it Eliot?”

“Delightful,” Eliot agreed, trying to find a polite way to clear his throat. 

Margo decided to take pity on him. “How kind of you, Mr Todd, to offer to take the painting this very afternoon. Eliot and I are thrilled at your interest.”

Todd couldn’t very well refuse and stood with grace, kissed Margo’s hand and then picked up the painting.

“Richards will help you wrap it,” Margo said, ringing the bell to summon the footman, “and he’ll see you safely on your way. Good afternoon, Mr Todd.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Eliot began to cough and Margo began to laugh.

“Oh, I told you he was interested,” she said, hurrying back to his side to rub circles on his back until he calmed. “And he is handsome, is he not? Dull as ditchwater, I know, but a pleasant enough way to pass the time.”

Eliot hummed, which Margo took to be agreement, and then gulped down some more tea to soothe his throat. 

Of course, not everyone shared Mr Todd’s enthusiasm for Margo’s painting. 

“What’s wrong with his nose?” Alice asked almost as soon as Todd had tugged the cover away with a flourish. ”And what’s this green dash.”

Margo’s pursed lips and wrinkled nose were met with a dazzling smile.

“It’s not your best work.”

“On the contrary,” Todd argued, stepping closer to the picture. “The green is symbolic of the subject’s inner turmoil.”

“Free-spiritedness,” Eliot murmured.

“Yes, quite.”

Alice was still watching Margo as though she was her greatest entertainment.

“Todd startled me,” Margo confessed with a shrug. ”What could I do? He thought it looked good.”

“It does look good. It’s a stunning work of art.”

Margo thought that was probably pushing it. Alice’s muffled snort told her that she thought the same.

“So,” Alice said, hours later when both Eliot and Mr Todd had returned home and the two of them had settled into a comfortable after-dinner silence.

“So?”

“Why are you trying to matchmake Eliot and Todd?”

Margo swirled her wine in her glass and took a sip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know, for someone so good at lying to others, you are exceedingly bad at it with me.”

“Alice…”

“Eliot and Todd would be a truly terrible match,” Alice continued, setting down her own glass with a determined click. “If you’re holding out hope for them becoming the romance of the century —”

“I’m not!”

“—then think again because Todd is not the person you think he is. He’s ambitious.”

“All I want is for Eliot to have the best start and if I can help him in any way to make better choices in his friends…”

“Who is Todd better than?” Alice asked, confused. “No, really. That’s an actual question.”

“Julia’s brother,” Margo snapped. “Quentin.”

Alice blinked rapidly for a moment and gave her head a little shake. Margo looked away before she found herself doing something stupid, like smiling.

“What’s wrong with Quentin?” Alice asked. “He’s perfectly amiable. I met him when I went to visit Julia the day after the wedding and we’ve been writing to one another ever since. He’s kind, friendly, well-read…”

“It sounds rather like you want him for yourself,” Margo interjected, waspishly. 

Alice raised her chin. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” 

Margo refilled both of their glasses. Sometimes, Alice could be terribly unhelpful.

“I don’t like him and I’m not going to feel bad for it. He might be your friend, but Eliot is mine and you’ll forgive me if I know what he needs better than you.”

“And you think what Eliot needs is… Todd.”

“I think he needs to spend time with someone respectable and well-liked in the town. Quentin doesn’t even live here.”

“He’s teaching at a school.”

“Exactly,” Margo said, pointing at Alice like she’d made her point for her. “Exactly. A schoolmaster.” She shuddered at the thought.

“Why is a clergyman more respectable than a schoolmaster?” Alice asked.

Margo didn’t know why. Why, wasn’t important. It was true and she said so.

Alice sighed. “The worst part is I know you’d like him if you talked to him. He wrote me the most interesting essay on The Mysteries of Udolpho and raised some points that I thought you would appreciate.”

Margo sat silently, gripping the stem of her wine glass a little too tightly. She loved The Mysteries of Udolpho.

“How interesting,” was all she said and finished off her wine before she broke the glass.

Alice let the subject go.

**Winter**

The days grew shorter, the nights grew colder and Margo was happy to spend most of her time in the library, curled up with a book in front of a roaring fire. Three or four of her evenings were usually spent with her friends at various dinner parties. The rest of the time found her at home with Eliot, learning everything there was to know about him.

With each passing day, Margo found something new to like about Eliot. He enjoyed music and had an excellent singing voice which far outshone her own. He dressed impeccably, he loved dancing and was quick to pick up every new dance she taught him and he had acquired a vast knowledge of food and wine that Margo had no interest in beyond what tasted nice and what made her feel good, but she knew it was something to be admired in him. Margo had also discovered, when he’d finally relaxed enough in her company to show it, that Eliot had a positively filthy sense of humour matched only by her own. 

In other words, Margo adored him.

Snow came in the second week of December and lay like a thick blanket over the countryside in the weeks leading up to Christmas, preventing Margo from even journeying out for her weekly dinner with Julia and Kady and limiting the number of callers to The Cottage. Eliot began writing to her every day and Margo took great pleasure in writing him the most scandalous things she could think up in return. 

Of course, no amount of snow could prevent the entire town from travelling to Remington for the Quinn’s annual Christmas Eve party which had been a calendar event for the county for longer than Margo had been alive. 

When they were younger, Margo and Alice had sneaked out of Alice’s bedroom on the night of the Christmas party to see all of the men and women dressed in their finest, enjoying the festivities. Alice had grown to hate those nights, but even when her parents had passed away, she and Charlie had been determined to continue the tradition. 

Luckily for Alice, now that Charlie was married, she could hand over the hostess duties, which left her free to take Margo’s arm as soon as she entered the room.

“Hello,” Margo greeted her with a smile. “What are you doing?”

“Walking with my friend,” Alice said. “Am I not allowed?”

“Of course you’re allowed, you just usually don’t.” Margo watched Alice curiously as she was led across the room to the punch bowl. 

“There’s wine in it,” Alice assured her, handing her a glass. “Cheers.”

Margo laughed. “Alice, what’s come over you?”

Alice shook her head and Margo let it go, happy to spend time with her friend. 

“Have you seen Eliot?” Margo asked, scanning the crowd. “I wanted to wish him a merry Christmas.”

“No,” Alice said, airily. “There’s so many people, I haven’t seen him this last half hour.”

Eliot, who had been looking for Quentin from the moment he’d arrived at the party, saw him slip away from the crowd and took the next available opportunity to follow, searching through more rooms than were probably necessary for any house to have before he found him.

“Are you allowed to be in here?”

Quentin jumped and snatched his hand back from the bookcase as though burned. “Oh. Eliot.”

“Sorry for scaring you,” Eliot said, leaning back against the closed library doors. 

“Alice said I could come and use the library if I wanted to escape. I don’t really like crowds.”

Eliot was finding increasingly that he loved parties, loved the fancy clothes, the wine, the music and the dancing but he had to admit, the idea of being alone with Quentin was more thrilling than the idea of being in the middle of a crowd right now.

“I actually have something for you,” Eliot said, making his way over to him slowly. “Julia told me you were coming tonight, so I thought I’d give you this in person.” He pulled a letter out of the inside pocket of his coat, loathe to admit that he’d been carrying it around for a week.

Quentin’s face lit up as he took it eagerly and Eliot couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

“Thank you, Eliot.” He turned the letter over in his hands and his fingers played with the seal for a moment before he tucked it away. “I’ll read it tonight.”

“I started reading The Romance of the Forest,” Eliot said quickly. “After I wrote the letter, which is why I don’t mention it, but I wanted to make a start before I saw you.”

“Are you enjoying it?” Quentin asked. “It’s not the best, I think, but a lot of people…”

“I am enjoying it,” Eliot assured him with a smile. “I’m not much of a reader I’m afraid but I do like gothic novels.”

Quentin’s eyes were still sparkling so Eliot hoped he wasn’t failing too miserably in keeping his interest. There was something about Quentin that drew Eliot to him and made him want to curl up with him and keep him forever.

“Would you mind if I sat with you?”

“Not at all.”

Alice stayed with Margo for the rest of the evening. Margo waved at Eliot as they went in to dinner and grinned when she noticed he was seated next to Mr Todd at the other end of the table. She settled in next to Alice, happy to talk to her to the exclusion of almost everyone else until Josh interrupted them during dessert. 

“Margo, you’ll be excited to hear that Fen is coming to stay in the spring.”

Margo paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. Excited was not the word she would use to describe her feelings about Fen. Something vicious and uncomfortable twisted within her and she forced the brightest smile she could to her face to counter any hint of her feelings becoming public.

“Oh, how lovely,” she said, kicking Alice’s ankle under the table when she coughed.

“Margo has always been so kind to Fen,” Josh continued, including more of the table in their conversation. “And Fen has always been fascinated by Margo. Running around after her, getting up to all sorts of mischief.

That wasn’t exactly the way Margo remembered it. She had certainly gotten up to a lot of mischief when she was younger and on the rare occasions that Fen had visited; their fathers had sent them out to play together and Margo had tried, at first, to include Fen in her games but she was so timid and quiet that Margo had quickly lost patience with her and generally would leave Fen to amuse herself while she went scurrying around the woods by herself. Fen however had obviously never shared this fact with her cousin.

“Well, it will be delightful to see her as always,” Margo lied. Beside her, Alice coughed again. “I will throw a ball for her.”

The look on Alice’s face said she may have overcompensated but a murmur of happiness soon went around the table at the promise of one of Margo’s famous balls.

“Now you’ve done it,” Alice whispered. 

“I love throwing balls,” Margo insisted. “I’m the queen of balls.”

“For Fen?”

“Well what else was I supposed to say?”

Alice didn’t have an answer for her which Margo took to mean that she was right and Alice wasn’t. Never let it be said that Alice Quinn would remain quiet on any subject if she had a good enough argument.

“Besides, I won’t have to talk to her, will I? I’m sure any number of people will be only too happy to dance with her and flirt with her and keep her entertained. She’s…”

“Yes, yes,” Alice interrupted, “very elegant.”

Margo nodded. “A May ball. The day before our annual picnic.”

Alice’s shoulders dropped as she relented and she smiled at Margo.

“Yes, why not? That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Margo managed to corner Eliot after dinner and while the others played games and danced, she kept a tight hold of his arm and assured him that she’d miss him terribly for the next few days until he promised to visit her. 

“You know I am lost without you, my darling fawn,” he said, kissing the back of her hand. “I will walk through the snow if I have to.”

She laughed at that and then pulled him up to dance with her, happily stepping aside when Mr Todd approached and asked for the next. She watched them from the side of the room with much relief.

“You look very pleased with yourself,” Alice said, appearing at Margo’s side and offering her a fresh glass of wine.

“Yes, I am,” Margo said, grinning. “How could I not be?”

“Just be careful, Margo. He really isn’t what you think.”

“So you said.” Margo looked back at the two men, smiling together as they danced. “I think everything’s working out perfectly though.

Alice let the subject drop and wandered away to talk to Quentin, much to Margo’s consternation. She threw herself back into the dancing the next time Eliot offered her his hand, determined to put both Quentin and Alice out of her mind.

It was two o’clock in the morning when the party ended. Margo lingered with Alice in the doorway until everyone else had departed, having waved off Eliot and Josh who were kindly - and frustratingly - sharing their carriage with Julia, Kady, and Quentin.

The snow had continued to fall, heavier than ever, and Margo wasn’t looking forward to her journey back to The Cottage alone.

“Just stay here for the night,” Alice told her. “Stay until twelfth night if you want to. You know you’re welcome.”

Margo shivered under her cloak and almost relented, but the idea of spending the next two weeks - or even two days - in the same house as Emily and her newborn was enough to strengthen her resolve. 

“I know, Alice, and thank you, but I’d much rather be in my own bed.”

“You shouldn’t be out in this alone.”

“Indeed,” Mr Todd said, joining them. 

Margo jumped slightly. “Todd. I thought you’d already left.”

“I needed to discuss tomorrow’s sermon with Mr Quinn,” Todd told them. “Oh my, it is getting bad out there.”

“Margo,” Alice pleaded again.

“Please allow me to escort you home, Miss Hanson.”

She shared a tired look with Alice but eventually nodded her agreement.

“Thank you, Mr Todd, that’s most kind.”

Alice kissed her cheek and wished her a happy Christmas and before Margo could properly respond, Todd was whisking her away to his carriage.

He offered her a blanket for her legs, which she took gratefully.

“What a lovely evening it has been?” he said, sitting back. “I cannot remember a time I’ve had such fun.”

“It was a lovely party,” she agreed and then covered her mouth to hide a yawn, very much looking forward to crawling into bed and sleeping until noon.

“Miss Hanson,” Mr Todd said urgently, startling Margo back to wakefulness when he took her hand in both of his. She tried to tug herself free but he raised her hand to his lips and started to press kisses to it.

“Mr Todd!”

“No, please, Miss Hanson, you must let me speak. I have longed to tell you of my devotion to you, the love and desire that overwhelms me whenever you are near. You must have realised at least my ardent attachment to you.”

Margo wrenched her hand free and slapped Todd as hard as she could.

“How dare you address me in such a manner? Especially after the attention, you have lavished on Eliot all this time.”

“Waugh?” Todd clutched his cheek, frowning across the space between them. “What interest have I expressed in him? Only as a friend of yours, indeed.”

“The painting,” Margo said, her mind racing back through every interaction they’d shared over the last few months. How had she gotten this so wrong?

“The painting you did,” Todd said, making Margo groan at her own stupidity. “Your beautiful work that I wanted to accentuate.”

“Oh, I am such a fool.”

“Miss Hanson,” Todd whispered. “Please, putting aside Mr Waugh’s feelings, which I know will not be hurt by this, what do you think about my declaration?”

Margo sat up straight and inhaled deeply. “Please refrain from the intimacy of whispering. I have no desire to be your wife and my feelings towards you, especially at this moment, are in frank opposition to your own. I saw you only as someone who could assist my friend and as you clearly have no interest in that, then I no longer have any interest in you.”

She turned her head at the sudden light outside, surprised but relieved to see the lights of The Cottage porch lit for her return. 

Margo threw open the carriage door before it had even come to stand and jumped down without a word, ignoring Todd’s shouts of apology as she hurried inside. 

Embarrassed and ashamed, Margo resolved to keep to herself as much as she could for the rest of the Christmas season. She arrived at church the next day just in time for the service and kept her head down throughout, then hurried away through the side door afterwards to avoid Todd, Eliot and Alice.

She spent Christmas day in front of the fire, eating some chocolates that Eliot had bought for her (which must have cost most of his weekly allowance) and reading a book that Alice had gifted her while pretending she wasn’t feeling sorry for herself.

How could she have let things go so far and become so confused? Poor Eliot, how was he going to take it?

True to his word, Eliot trekked through the snow to The Cottage from town, the day after Boxing Day and Margo threw herself into his arms as soon as he walked through the door.

“What’s all this?” he asked, holding her close even as he shuffled closer to the fire. “May we sit, sweetest fawn? My trousers are rather damp and caked with dirt.”

Margo pulled away long enough to drag the chaise up to the fire and then pushed Eliot down onto it and dropped back into his arms.

They didn’t speak for a while and Margo was happy to take the offered comfort from her friend. He rubbed her back in long soothing strokes and murmured happy noises against her hair as he warmed up.

“Come on then, darling,” he urged eventually. “Tell me everything.”

It spilt out of her in a rush and she hid her face in his chest for most of it until her fury overwhelmed her again and she sat back, clutching his hands as she swore vengeance.

Eliot was quiet and patient as always until she started to describe the numerous ways she’d come up with to ruin Todd’s worthless life when he burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny, Eliot!”

“Of course it’s funny,” Eliot assured her, wiping away some tears from his eyes. “I have no desire at all to marry Todd or any clergyman for that matter. Can you imagine?”

Margo admitted that she could not.

“I know you were trying to help me, but my heart isn’t broken.”

Margo hugged him tightly again and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Eliot laughed again and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Nonsense. Now, tell me that you enjoyed your chocolates.”

Quentin wrote to Eliot every week.

At first, Eliot wasn’t sure what to make of it. He wasn’t a particularly prolific letter writer himself, but he found as the weeks passed, it was easy to share his thoughts and experiences with Quentin, even if he couldn’t manage to match the ten or twelve sheets of paper that Quentin always managed to fill for him.

There was something about Quentin that was unlike anyone else Eliot had ever met. He hated the rigid, constructed aspects of society, he found small talk excruciating and the people generally fake - or at least, if not fake, not wholly truthful. He was passionate and funny and sometimes very wicked in a way that thrilled Eliot completely.

Eliot wasn’t sure why Margo hated Quentin so much, but he had learned not to mention him in her presence. As much as he adored her, as much as he knew she only had his best interests at heart, he knew that whatever she thought was so terrible about Quentin could not possibly be true.

The latest letter from Quentin arrived on the morning of December 31st and Eliot took both it and his morning tea back up to his room, to read it from the comfort of his bed.

_Dearest Eliot,_

_It has taken me several days to write this letter and even now I hesitate because the news I have to share, while fortunate in the extreme, will mean that we are separated from each other by an even greater distance._

_As you know, I have been looking for a new position. I had hoped to find something closer to St Lawrence where I could be closer to Julia, but an opportunity has arisen with a family near the border that I am unable to turn down._

_Your friendship has meant a great deal to me these last few months and I hope that it will continue, although obviously, with the distance, it may be many years before we see each other again._

_I hope you know that I cherish the time we’ve spent together and every letter you’ve written me. I wish you all the happiness in the world._

_With love,  
Q_

Eliot read the letter three times, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, hands shaking as the paper crumpled in his fingers. He swiped a tear from his cheek and threw the bedcovers back. He needed to see Quentin. He needed to talk him out of this insane plan. Quentin should be here, with Julia. With him. 

He dressed with more haste and less concern than he had in years, practically throwing himself down the stairs and out of the house, into the snow, without even his overcoat. There was no time to stop and make himself look respectable, nor to debate with himself the wisdom of demanding that Quentin remain nearby purely for him. He knew it was impulsive and probably selfish, but he couldn’t let Quentin leave.

Julia and Kady lived on the other side of town and Eliot slipped and slid his way along the streets with little care of how wet and cold he was. He tried at first to answer the greetings of his friends and neighbours as he passed them, but he soon gave up, instead turning up the collar of his coat and marching as best he could, lost in his own wretched feelings.

“Eliot!” Julia exclaimed upon his being admitted, pulling him into the drawing-room. “Goodness, look at you, you must be freezing.” She wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and pushed him down into a chair, then poured him a glass of wine. “Whatever has happened?”

“Quentin,” was all Eliot could say, swallowing most of the wine as he shivered in the blanket. “Quentin.”

“Oh.” Julia dropped to her knees in front of him and pulled another blanket over his legs. “Oh, Eliot, I’m so sorry. You just missed him. He left for his new position an hour ago.”

Eliot closed his eyes as his heart seemed to stutter in his chest. 

Quentin had gone and he wasn’t coming back.

Margo watched the clock tick closer to midnight and yawned. 

“Can we not go to bed?”

“You invited me here,” Alice said, fidgeting in her seat. “You promised me entertainment.”

“Well, Eliot was supposed to be here,” Margo said with a pout. “He was going to sing and I was going to accompany him and you were going to tell us how wonderful we were.”

“You could still play without him,” Alice said, nudging her slightly. “You sing beautifully.”

Margo laughed. “Nowhere near as beautifully as Eliot.”

Alice pulled a face but didn’t argue. “Where is Eliot?”

“He’s ill, poor lamb,” Margo told her, detailing the note Eliot had sent that afternoon. “It came on quite suddenly and Hoberman has confined him to bed for a week.”

Alice offered her sympathies and Margo patted her hand. 

“He will be well. I shall go and visit him tomorrow. Or maybe the next day. At least you are here tonight to keep my spirits up.”

“Of course,” Alice laughed, “it’s your spirits we have to be worried about.”

“Quite. If my spirits are low then so are the spirits of the whole county.”

Alice chuckled again indulgently, just as the clock on the mantelpiece struck twelve.

“Happy New Year, Alice.”

“Happy New Year, Margo.”

They welcomed the beginning of January with a sweet kiss and soft smiles. 

“Now can we go to bed?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Spring**

Spring took its time arriving that year and the dark clouds of winter hung over St Lawrence until the beginning of April. Margo knew everyone seemed to be suffering for it but she was worried most especially about Eliot, whose moods would swing from one extreme to the other every time Margo saw him. His illness at Christmas had lasted into the second week of January and even then Margo had had to force her way into Hoberman’s house and into Eliot’s room, ignoring the servants who’d tried to stop her along the way.

She had settled herself on his bed, slipped one arm around his waist and propped her chin on his shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I told you, Margo, I’m ill.” 

“But in what way, ill? Josh won’t tell me anything. He says you can’t get out of bed.”

“I don’t want to get out of bed.”

Margo was having none of it. She slipped back to her feet and in one motion, pulled all the blankets off the bed and dragged them out into the hall. 

“Margo!”

“Up,” she demanded, clapping her hands together. “Get up. Get washed. Get dressed. We’re going for a walk.”

Every day after that she’d marched into the house and if Eliot wasn’t up she forced him up. 

Then suddenly there were flowers in the lanes again, a bright carpet of daffodils and violets brightening the days as the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds. Margo continued to spend as much time outside as possible, forcing Eliot out of the house every day for long walks through the woods and along the river until, eventually, the easy smiles returned to his face and he shook off his melancholy.

April brought three new faces to the town, though one at least was familiar to most. 

Fen arrived without a lot of fuss, settling herself into the Hoberman household as though she’d never left. Margo left a polite day and a half before calling on them, bracing herself as she knocked on the door and feeling relieved when it was Eliot that answered.

“Hello,” he said, standing back to allow her inside. “You look as though you’re being led to your doom.”

Margo handed her her hat and cloak. “Aren’t I?”

Eliot laughed and took her arm, leading her into the drawing-room. “Of course not. Fen is very excited to see you.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Margo groaned.

Fen jumped up from her chair and advanced upon Margo with her hands outstretched as soon as she stepped into the room. “Margo! It’s delightful to see you again.”

Eliot poured them all some tea, while Fen pulled Margo down onto the sofa with her and proceeded to ask what felt like a hundred questions, never pausing to wait for an answer before moving on. Every so often she would lean closer and give Margo a friendly squeeze. Really, the girl could be too much.

“Fen, darling,” Eliot interrupted, “give Margo a chance to answer your questions if you’re going to bombard her like that.”

Fen stopped talking at once and blushed before offering both Margo and Eliot a polite apology.

“I’m just so happy to see you. It has been so long.”

“Six years,” Margo said. “I was a child the last time you saw me.”

“As was I.” Fen sipped her tea. It seemed to Margo as though she was counting down to something. Thirty seconds ticked by on the clock. Eliot bit his lip. “Oh, Margo I must tell you about the assembly rooms in Canton!”

The second new face in town arrived with Mr Todd on his return from an extended trip to the coast. He had told the parish that he’d been advised by his doctor to spend the worst of the winter months in a warmer climate taking restorative waters. (Hoberman had privately told Margo and Eliot, after one too many glasses of wine, that Todd had turned up on his doorstep on Boxing Day and begged him for a reason to leave town for a while).

Mrs Todd was not quite what Margo had been expecting when Julia told her the news. She’d imagined someone like herself, dark-haired and elegant or else some starry-eyed, slip of a girl that didn’t yet realise she could do better.

Poppy was something else entirely.

“Please don’t call me Mrs Todd,” she cried, covering her ears and then throwing her head back with laughter. “I’m Poppy. Just Poppy. I always hated being called Miss Kline too. I’m sure you hate being called Miss Hanson, don’t you, Margo?”

Margo pressed her lips together and glared at Todd.

“It’s a lovely house. Too big really, don’t you think, for one person. You really need a big family if you have a big house and you’re all alone. I’m sure you’re very lonely here.”

Margo, who hadn’t felt lonely a single day in her whole life, drew herself up to her full height and forced an amused smile. “Won’t you allow me to show you the gardens.”

The gardens, as it turned out, were not quite up to the standard of large country houses that Poppy was familiar with. Margo had to bite her tongue to stop herself from telling Poppy to go right back to one of those other houses and stay there.

“Do you know who we met yesterday, Margo?” Poppy asked later while Margo poured them some tea. 

Margo saw Todd rest his hand on his wife’s knee and lean a little closer as though to forestall her. She braced herself for whatever was coming.

“Ali!”

It took a moment for Margo’s brain to process what she’d heard and some of her confusion must have shown on her face because Poppy continued with,

“Alice Quinn, you know, up at Remington. Now _that_ is a grand house and so lucky to have that beautiful family living there. Charlie is desperate for a big family, isn’t he Mr T?”

Todd hummed his agreement but he needn't have bothered because Poppy didn’t wait for his response. She loved Charlie. She loved Emily. They were so sweet. So kind. And Alice, well…

“Ali is a darling. I adore her. She needs someone though. A woman like her should be married. I can’t imagine why she’s not.”

Margo had a brief but vivid fantasy of pushing the sponge cake on the table into Poppy’s ill-mannered face and demanding that she leave her house. Instead, she gave a thin smile and sipped her tea, allowing the woman to hopefully talk herself out.

The third new visitor was announced the following day while Margo was venting to Julia about Poppy’s boorish behaviour.

“She’s horrible,” Margo said for probably the third time that morning. “I can’t believe he married her. I can’t believe he’d rather be with her than Eliot.”

Julia laughed and shook her head. “Why on earth would you want him to be with Eliot?”

“Oh, I don’t,” Margo sighed. “I just wanted to help him and then Todd messed it all up and now he’s married to that vulgar, ill-bred…”

Kady interrupted them with a cough and gave Julia a loaded look.

“What?” Margo asked. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Except that you haven’t stopped talking about her since you got here,” Kady said, “and I can’t take it anymore. We get it. I’m not particularly looking forward to spending time with her but what can we do? He’s made his choice. We just have to make the best of it.”

Margo wasn’t actually used to Kady being the voice of reason. In fact, Margo still wasn’t used to Kady at all. Which wasn’t to say that she didn’t have the greatest respect for her. On the contrary, Kady took even less notice of the intricacies of polite society than Margo did. She spent more time in breeches than in dresses, stalking around the town with a riding crop in hand, long coat billowing behind her as she checked on every business, made sure every employee was safe and happy in their work, made sure every employer was fair and reasonable. 

Julia smiled at her wife and patted Margo’s hand. “And we have news.”

Margo braced herself.

“Penny is coming to visit.”

Penny was Kady’s childhood sweetheart. They had spent the first ten years of their lives together in Canton, until Kady’s family had moved to St Lawrence and their romance had become a long-distance friendship, kept alive through regular letters and promises to visit that had never quite become a reality. 

“You’ve said that before,” Margo sighed. “Many times. You can’t keep raising my hopes of a handsome lieutenant arriving to sweep me off my feet.”

“But this time he really is coming,” Kady said. “He sent word he’ll be arriving on Tuesday next and staying at the Boatman for at least a month.”

“A month? So he’ll be here for the ball?”

“Indeed,” Julia laughed. “So you’ll have time to be swept off your feet and see if you like it for a change.” 

Penny was everything Margo always hoped he would be. Handsome, especially in the red and white of his uniform - the sight of which sent an excited ripple around the room - charming and funny. Unlike other officers she’d met over the years, he didn’t spend any amount of time talking about the army or the war and Margo liked him all the better for it. 

The party that evening was a happy affair and Margo revelled in Penny’s company, enjoying the attention he showered on her.

“Julia tells me you sing, Miss Hanson.”

“Oh, yes. Not expertly, but I do enjoy singing.”

“Won’t you sing for us now?”

Margo barely had time to consider her response before Hoberman was pulling her to her feet with a hand around her elbow, ushering her to the piano. 

“Yes, please, Margo. Entertain us a little.”

A glance around the room told her she now had almost everyone’s attention. Fen was sitting forward in her seat looking excited with Eliot beside her, smiling at Margo fondly. Alice sat a little further back but gave Margo an encouraging nod. It was almost enough to settle the sudden onset of nerves.

“I will play after Margo,” Poppy’s voice rang out across the room. “Everyone always says I play beautifully, don’t they Mr T?”

Margo watched Alice’s eyes widen to absurd proportions and then grinned at each other across the room.

Nerves finally under control, Margo began to sing.

Poppy did sing next and Margo took a seat next to Alice, trying her best not to look too amused. 

“Everyone always says she plays beautifully,” Alice whispered from behind her fan and Margo smacked her knee lightly. 

“Stop. If I laugh and everyone hates me it’ll be your fault.”

“No one will hate you,” Alice argued. “Except Poppy.”

“She already hates me,” Margo said with a sniff. “It’s you she adores. Ali.”

The noise Alice made sounded close to a growl. “I gave her no reason.”

“You are adorable though,” Margo said with a grin. “She can’t help herself.”

“She should try harder.”

They clapped politely when Poppy finished and Margo instinctively gripped Alice’s hand when it looked like she may start on a second piece. Luckily for everyone, Penny was already guiding Fen up to the piano, announcing that he would play while Fen would sing.

Margo and Alice gave simultaneous sighs of relief and then giggled. 

They didn’t let go of each other’s hands until much later.

Eliot stared into the hearth long after the embers had burned away. The clock in the hallway struck two and shook him back to himself. He shivered and rubbed his arms, thought about dragging himself up to his room.

It had been a long night. The party at Julia’s had been entertaining and he’d enjoyed spending time with Margo as always, but now he was alone again and all he could think about was Quentin.

“Eliot?”

Fen stood in the doorway, a flickering candle held in front of her. 

“Oh. Did I wake you?”

“No,” Fen said, moving closer. “Why are you still awake?”

“I can’t sleep,” he told her honestly. “I haven’t slept properly in months.”

He shivered again and Fen dragged her shawl from her shoulders and wrapped it around him. “You’re freezing. Come on upstairs.”

Eliot allowed himself to be pushed and prodded up the stairs by his determined cousin. 

“I won’t sleep.”

“No, but you’ll be warm,” Fen said and shoved him towards the bed with more force than her tiny frame should have been able to produce. “Into bed.”

He crawled under the blankets and let her arrange them around him to her satisfaction. “Thank you, cousin.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” she asked, stroking his hair back from his forehead. “And don’t tell me nothing is wrong because I know something is. You’re not yourself.”

Eliot considered telling her everything. When they were young she was the one person he knew he could talk to. She kept his secrets. She shared her own. There was nothing they wouldn’t do for each other. Maybe it could be like that again. 

“I met someone.”

Fen’s eyes widened to comic proportions and she made a high-pitched noise that made Eliot laugh even as he shushed her. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Who? Do I know him? When did you meet him? When can I meet him?” She clamped her hands over her mouth and blinked apologetically.

“It’s no one you know. And it doesn’t matter who he is anymore. He had to move away and I’m never going to see him again.”

Fen dropped her hands to gather his up and pulled them into her lap. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Eliot said. “And I don’t know what to do. Everything hurts.”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Fen soothed, stroking his hair again. “We’ll think of something. It will all turn out well.”

Eliot wished he had half as much faith in love as his cousin.

Two weeks before Margo’s May Ball the town could talk of little else. The dressmaker was fully engaged in making new gowns for every lady attending. The local wine merchant had some new wines imported for the occasion.

Margo herself had delegated a lot of the responsibility to her closest friends. True leaders knew their own strengths and weaknesses and adjusted accordingly. So Julia had made sure the invitations went out on the correct day, Eliot sat with the wine merchant and approved the evening’s drinks and Margo had taken it upon herself to not only purchase a dress for herself, but also one for Alice.

“Just tell me where we’re going?” Alice insisted when the carriage stopped outside the church. “Please tell me it’s not in there.”

“Why not?” Margo asked, jumping out with a bright smile and turning to help Alice down. “Is your friendship with darling Poppy on the wane?”

“You are a hellion, Margo Hanson.” Alice took Margo’s arm and led her away from the church towards the main street. “Where are we going?”

“To the dressmaker for my fitting,” Margo said. “I just thought it would be nice to walk for a while. Enjoy the sunshine.”

Alice looked sceptical but she soon relaxed, breathing in the fresh spring air.

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“The ball?” Alice smiled. “I am. It feels like an age since we had one. Are you? Is Fen driving you mad?”

“Actually, she’s been quite relaxed since the first day she arrived. Calmer in general. Still overly fond.”

“Yes, God forbid people like you, Margo.”

“You laugh but I’m the one who had to be petted like a lap dog every time she sits next to me.”

“She just wants to be your friend.”

Alice followed Margo into the shop and they shared a few minutes of conversation with the owner before she hurried into the back and returned with two gowns.

“The peach for yourself Miss Hanson and the green for Miss Quinn, as requested.” 

“Margo!”

“You said you weren’t going to buy yourself a new dress. You didn’t say anything about me not buying you one.”

“I honestly thought that went without saying.”

“Well it’s done now so you might as well say thank you and accept it as the kind and thoughtful gift it is.” 

Alice ran her hand over the delicate fabric of the dress and said quietly, “Thank you, Margo.”

There wasn’t a lot for Margo to do on the day of the ball, with most of the work already completed and just the food to be finished and candles lit before the final checks, so she spent most of the morning in bed, knowing that the night ahead would be long and exacting (in the best possible way). 

She took her time dressing and insisted her maid start over with her hair halfway through pinning it up the first time. She wanted everything to be perfect.

Guests started to arrive promptly and Margo greeted each of them in the hall, welcoming them to her home, guiding them to follow the music to the ballroom where the food and drinks were already on hand to entertain everyone since the dancing wouldn’t start until Margo herself joined them.

Julia and Kady were the first of her close friends to arrive, with Penny and Quentin a step behind. 

“Quentin,” Margo said, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“I invited him,” Julia said, linking her arm through his. “You don’t mind do you? I missed him. It’s terrible, him being so far away.”

Quentin stared at the ground while Margo assured Julia that she didn’t mind and a second later they swept away, leaving only Penny behind.

“Miss Hanson,” he greeted her, and raised her hand to kiss it, making her laugh.

“Good evening, Lieutenant. I hope you at least are not going to sit in the corner and attempt to disappear into the wallpaper?”

“Not at all,” Penny laughed. “I hope you’ll dance at least the first with me, Miss Hanson.”

“I’d be delighted.”

Another few minutes passed, then Eliot arrived, towering above Hoberman and Fen, and Margo felt herself instantly relax. If Eliot was here then the evening would be a good one.

“I can’t believe you did all of this for me,” Fen exclaimed, throwing herself into Margo’s arms. “You’re so kind, so thoughtful.”

Margo found herself giving Fen a genuine smile, even as she eased her firmly away. “It was nothing, but you’re welcome. Go enjoy your party.”

Eliot waited until they’d gone and stole a quick kiss of her cheek. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you,” she smiled, brushing her hand down the front of his coat. “Very dashing.”

“More dashing than Lieutenant Adiyodi?”

“Hmmm,” Margo mused. “Pass.”

Eliot rolled his eyes but laughed and she pushed him gently away. “Save me a dance, Margo.”

Alice was almost the last person to arrive and she hurried inside looking nervous and flushed. 

“Alice, whatever is the matter?” Margo asked, grasping her friend’s hands. “Has something happened?”

“No,” Alice said quickly. “No, I’m sorry, I’m just running late. I didn’t mean to. I wanted to be here early to help and then...”

“Don’t fret over something so foolish,” Margo laughed. “There was nothing for you to do here and all that matters is that you’re here at all.” She kept tight hold of Alice’s hands and stepped back to look at her. “I knew you’d look beautiful in the green. Stand here beside me and catch your breath, and then we can go in together.”

Eliot hadn’t expected to see Quentin that night, so coming face to face with him five minutes after entering the ballroom came as something of a shock.

“Eliot!” Quentin beamed up at him, looking happy and nervous all at once.

“Quentin,” Eliot breathed. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Julia invited me,” Quentin said. “I know it was a long way to come but the family I’m working for is away at present.”

Eliot was about to answer when the music started and not wanting to have to shout to continue the conversation, he took Quentin’s arm and led him outside onto the balcony at the back of the house. 

“I came to see you,” he said as soon as they were away from the crowd. “As soon as I got your letter. I wanted to stop you.”

Quentin looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Eliot asked. “After everything? I thought…”

“What did you think?”

Eliot’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. He’d gotten everything wrong, imagined things between them that weren't true, would never be true. He’d been a fool.

“I thought we were friends.”

Quentin’s eyes squeezed closed for a second and then he reached out and grasped Eliot’s hand. “We are friends, Eliot. Leaving you, leaving our friendship, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I couldn’t stay,” Quentin whispered. “I couldn’t stay and watch you with someone else.”

“Quentin-”

“And I know things didn’t work out the way you thought but Julia says Penny is really nice and that you get along well…”

Eliot couldn’t remember ever exchanging more than polite pleasantries with Penny in the last month. “Penny?”

“I don’t want to get in the way of you finding someone extraordinary.”

He raised Eliot’s hand, cupped between both of his, and pressed his lips against his knuckles. “Please forgive me.”

Before Eliot could even catch his breath, Quentin had disappeared back into the safety of the party.

Penny was a good dancer, but when he left Margo to request a dance from Fen, Margo found she really didn’t mind — there wasn’t even a twinge of regret — and that was probably a good indication that she wasn’t going to fall in love with him. She danced the next two dances with an oddly quiet Eliot and then the next with Kady when Eliot stole Julia for herself. By the time they’d finished, Julia had at least managed to brighten Eliot’s mood and he escorted Margo into the dining room for a break and some food. 

They found Alice sitting with the Todds and Margo gave Eliot a push in their direction, telling him to save her.

“Thank you,” Alice said when Eliot guided her back to Margo’s side. “They really hate you, Margo. I mean, really.”

“And all because I wanted Todd to kiss Eliot. They’re ridiculous.”

Eliot made a noise of disgust that sent Margo into peals of laughter and after a moment of trying to shush them, Alice joined in.

“That’s horrible.”

“I know. I’m sorry, darling El. I don’t know what I was thinking. Next time I’ll do better, I promise.”

“There doesn’t need to be a next time,” Eliot protested. “I can find my own admirers.”

“Of course you can.”

“Wench,” Eliot teased. “I am going back to the dancing. Have fun ladies.”

They sat for a little while and ate and drank. Alice explained why she’d arrived so late and Margo assured her again that she didn’t mind, so long as she turned up at all.

“Will you step outside with me?” Margo asked when she felt the glass of wine go straight to her hair. “I think I need some air.”

It was a beautiful night, fresh and clear and Margo breathed in the sweet, crisp air, relishing the way it made her body tingle happily. She sat down on the low wall and looked up at the stars. 

“How lucky we are to live in such a beautiful place.”

Alice joined her and Margo could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Ah, you’re getting philosophical.”

“Heaven forbid,” Margo laughed. “I’m just happy. Things are wonderful.”

“Indeed they are.”

The tone of Alice’s voice made Margo look quickly at her, but her friend was staring resolutely out across the garden. She really did have the most perfect profile. Margo thought she might like to draw it and frame it and keep it next to her.

“Will you dance with me, Alice?”

“Are you feeling better?”

“I feel good,” Margo assured her, standing and holding out her hand. “But I don’t want to dance inside. I want to dance here.”

Alice laughed, shaking her head slightly as she took Margo’s hand and tugged her back towards the house.

“I mean it,” Margo said, holding her ground. “Dance with me here.”

The music changed and Margo curtsied deeply.

“A waltz? How scandalous.”

Margo smiled as Alice stepped into her arms. 

“No one would believe this was one of my parties if nothing scandalous happened, Alice.”

“That’s true.”

“Do you remember the steps?”

And off they went.

The day of the picnic dawned bright and clear and Margo woke with a smile on her lips, thinking of the way Alice had held her the night before, the warm hands on her waist, the sweet teasing smile. As far as epiphanies went, the previous night’s had been undeniable and Margo considered herself particularly dim-witted not to have realised sooner. 

There were only three people in her life Margo could envisage being there forever. Julia, who was like an older sister, Eliot who was her twin heart and Alice, who was everything else. They fought together, they laughed together, they learned from each other and Margo loved her in a way she could never imagine loving anyone else. 

She dressed for the day in her favourite pink gown, selected her best bonnet and went down to breakfast unusually early.

Alice was already there. 

“Good morning,” Margo greeted her cheerfully and kissed her cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“Is the bed on fire,” Alice asked, glancing at the clock on the wall, “or has that stopped?”

“Don’t be grumpy. I’m in an excellent mood.”

“Clearly.”

“You didn’t tell me how you slept.”

Alice laughed and shook her head. “I slept very well, thank you. No need to ask about your night.”

“No, I’m quite wonderful.”

They were joined in short order by Julia and Kady, who also expressed surprise that Margo was out of bed, then by Fen, Josh and lastly Penny. 

“Eliot’s having breakfast in his room,” Josh said over his second helping of eggs. “I think he’s still suffering the after-effects of last night.”

“Yes, I thought Quentin would be down,” Julia said, “but he’s still sleeping, poor lamb. He’s not really one for parties.”

Margo sipped her tea and ignored all talk of Quentin Coldwater. 

The picnic was all set out when they arrived, colourful blankets laid on the hillside and a mountain of food to share between them. She positioned herself with her back to the sun and sprawled across the cushions, beckoning Alice to come and sit beside her, which she did in a much more ladylike way. Eliot sat on Margo’s other side with her feet in his lap.

They took their time, enjoying the food and the spring sunshine, intending to stay out as long as they could to make the most of the fine weather. Soon the comfortable lethargy that always descended after good food settled over them and the conversations became quiet and intimate. Margo couldn’t let it continue for too long.

She sat up quickly and clapped her hands, drawing everyone’s attention to her. 

“Now we shall play a game.”

A murmur of agreement went around the group and Margo grinned. 

“Tell one truth and one lie about the person opposite you and the rest of us will guess which is which.” 

“That sounds an awful lot like revealing secrets,” Kady said. “I’m not sure that’s right.”

“Nonsense,” Margo protested, “we’re all friends here, aren’t we? What terrible secrets could any of us have?”

Kady relented but she didn’t look happy. Margo ignored her and started to count. Two, two, two. Oh.

“Very well, I’ll start. Quentin Coldwater prefers The Castle of Otranto to The Mysteries of Udolpho.” Beside her, Alice and Eliot both sighed at the lie. “And he’s in love with Eliot.”

Everyone fell silent.

Quentin’s face burned and he stumbled to his feet.

Margo felt a wave of shame roll over her.

“Why would you say that?” Quentin asked, visibly distressed. He flinched away from Julia’s comforting, outstretched hand. “Why would you tell them when I did what you wanted?”

He turned and ran. 

Margo looked at Eliot but he was already on his feet and chasing after Quentin as fast as he could. 

Eliot followed Quentin into the woods and stayed at his side, glancing nervously at him every few seconds. He could see the tear tracks on his cheeks, the tense set of his mouth and jaw. He wanted to gather Quentin up against his chest and make sure no one ever hurt him again.

“Quentin, please,” he begged after several more minutes of walking. “Please, stop and tell me what’s going on? What Margo said, was that…? What did she ask you to do?” 

Quentin did stop, so suddenly that Eliot had taken two more steps before he realised. He turned to face him, raising his hands without thought to cup his face and brush away the tears with his thumbs.

“I can’t,” Quentin said, closing his eyes. “She’s your best friend. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“You’re not in the way of anything,” Eliot told him calmly. “This affects me too. You’re hurt and I want to fix that so I need you to tell me…”

“You can’t fix it.”

“Quentin,” Eliot urged. “Tell me what happened.”

Large brown eyes stared into his all of a sudden and Eliot wanted to kiss him so much it hurt. 

“It was at the Christmas party,” Quentin whispered, his voice broken and hoarse, like the words were being forced out of him. “She’s never liked me, Eliot.” 

Eliot felt his entire body stiffen. “What did she say to you?”

_Quentin literally bumped into Margo as he was leaving the library. Luckily the glass she was carrying was empty or else her shoes would have been drenched with wine._

_“Coldwater! Of course, it’s you. Watch where you’re going.”_

_“I’m sorry, Miss Hanson,” Quentin hurried to apologise. “I didn’t see you.”_

_“Makes a change from you being the invisible one,” she said with a wry smile. “Is this magical ability of yours the reason I never saw you before Julia’s wedding?_

_“Oh,” he said, surprised more than anything that she was still talking to him. “No, I was working for our uncle at Brakebills. It was only after he died that I had the freedom to visit her again.”_

_“I’m surprised you’ve stayed here quite as long as you have,” she continued. “Don’t you want to go back to your beloved school? Or are you hoping that Julia will look after you now?”_

_Quentin frowned. “As I said, it wasn’t my choice to be away from Julia. I had to go to Brakebills. I had to change my name. I had to leave her. It was the only way to make sure we’d survive.”_

_Margo seemed to hesitate and Quentin took a deep breath. “What about Eliot?”_

_“Eliot?” Quentin asked, pausing. “I don’t understand. We’re friends.”_

_“Oh, Quentin. Do you think I don’t see the way you look at him? You’re in love with him.”_

_“I…”_

_“And I understand, I do, but I don’t want you to get your heart broken. We both know Eliot deserves someone exceptional and that’s what I’m helping him to find.”_

_You’re not good enough for him, the voice in Quentin’s head whispered. He doesn’t want you. He and Margo are planning… Oh._

_Not you, Quentin’s brain repeated. Never you._

_“Julia told me you’re looking for work,” Margo said and Quentin nodded slowly, feeling dazed. “Luckily for you, I have a friend who is looking for a tutor for her two boys. Excellent pay. A guaranteed job for the next ten years.”_

_Quentin blinked at her, resigned._

_She patted his cheek and smiled. “I’ll send over the address in the morning. You can write Marina a letter telling her you accept. Yes?”_

_“Yes.”_

There was silence for a long moment when Quentin finished his tale. Eliot heard the birds tweeting high in the trees, the rustle of the leaves in the breeze. How strange that the world should continue when your heart has been broken.

“Eliot?”

Quentin’s voice called Eliot back to himself and he stared down at him for a second before doing what he’d wanted to do all along and pulled Quentin into his arms. 

“I love you. No one else. I couldn’t love anyone else. Only you.”

Margo watched Quentin and Eliot disappear into the woods with a lump in her throat. Opposite her, Julia was whispering urgently into Kady’s ear and they rose quickly, without even looking at Margo and started to walk back to the carriages. Fen gave her a sympathetic smile but then she too was urged to her feet by Hoberman and Penny murmured his excuses to join them in preparing to leave. 

For the first time in her life, Margo felt truly afraid. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest and she could feel tears prick at the backs of her eyes. This had never been her intention. It wasn’t as though she hated Quentin. She just wanted what was best for her friends. She wasn’t trying to hurt them. She would never do that.

Except that she had done it. She’d hurt Eliot and Julia and she’d embarrassed herself in the process. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to silence her mind.

She heard the scrape of two plates clattering together and she jumped, blinking her eyes open to see Alice beginning to clear up. 

“Alice-”

“Don’t,” Alice snapped. “Don’t speak to me. Help me clear everything up.”

There were people there to do that for them, but Margo didn’t want to argue, not when Alice’s voice was cold and hard in a way Margo had never heard before.

They were silently collecting the cushions when Eliot and Quentin appeared at the edge of the woods and Margo froze, desperately trying to think of something to fix things. She saw Eliot murmur quietly to Quentin and then he began stalking across the grass towards her.

“How dare you?” he hissed when he finally stood in front of her. “I trusted you.”

Margo had braced herself for Eliot to be angry. She had expected him to shout and rage and then she could apologise and they would be friends again. She hadn’t expected this quiet disapproval and it hurt twice as much.

“I liked him. You knew that. And you poked and prodded and thought nothing about what I wanted or what might make me happy. How could you do that? And don’t say it was for me because it wasn’t, that was for you. For your selfish pleasure.”

“Eliot…”

“No, Margo,” he said and this time his voice was raised and Margo could do nothing but close her eyes against it and try not to weep. “No. I can’t talk to you now. I can’t bear to look at you now.”

He turned away and hurried back towards Quentin, who was still standing in the shade of the trees, though he’d been joined by Julia, who was hugging him, and Kady.

Margo felt her shoulders begin to shake before she even realised what was happening. She screwed her eyes closed and turned her back to her friends, pleading with herself not to cry.

“Why did you do that?” Alice asked, suddenly at her shoulder and Margo knew she couldn’t answer without crying so she shook her head. “Is he right? Were you just being selfish? Do you care about anyone but yourself?”

“Alice…”

“You hurt Quentin. You were rude and superior and you have no right to treat people like that. You’re not better than them just because you have more money than them. You don’t know better just because you have a big house and a lot of servants. I have those things too but I didn’t earn them, I was just given them. Why does that make me a finer person than Quentin, who works hard and educates others and has never said a bad word about you, Margo, even though I know you’ve deserved a few?”

Margo’s breath left her in a shudder and she clenched her hands into fists at her sides, trying to get through it.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you,” Alice said a little more gently, stepping closer. “I’m saying it because I know you’re better than this. I know the person you truly are, Margo. I wish you knew that person too.”

When Margo finally gathered the courage to turn around and face her, Alice was gone.

And Margo was alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summer**

Margo woke the morning after the picnic and floated through the day as if nothing in her life had changed. She ate breakfast, she walked in the garden, she ate lunch, she went down to the stables, she had tea and read, ate dinner and read and read and read.

On the second day following the picnic, she woke in a temper, angry at her friends, at the world, at herself. She snapped at the servants at breakfast and word quickly spread of her bad mood because everyone stayed out of her way for the rest of the day. It wasn't fair that everyone was angry with her. Yes, she shouldn’t have said what she did to Quentin but it was a mistake, a misjudgement. They were her friends. They should be willing to forgive those tiny transgressions. They should know her better than that. 

On the third day, Margo woke up crying. She couldn’t remember crying before, though she supposed she must have when she was a child. She hadn’t even cried when her father died. How could she? She had too much to do, too much responsibility to take on, an estate to run and livelihoods to secure all on her own. It was like an entire lifetime’s worth of pain bubbled up and out of her and she stayed in bed all day, dozing into fitful sleep between fits of tears.

The fourth morning brought new resolve. She threw back her bedcovers and hurried to open the curtains. Then she sat down at her dressing table and stared at herself.

Margo was beautiful. Margo was refined. Margo was rich.

Alice’s voice echoed in her ears, _“What of it?”_

She picked up her hairbrush and started to brush her hair, counting the strokes as she stared deeper.

Margo loved her friends. She wanted what was best for them. She wanted them to be happy. Maybe she’d been heavy-handed about it. She hadn’t listened to Eliot. She thought she knew best.

She sighed. Margo was condescending. 

She had been rude to Quentin at Christmas and yes, she had encouraged him to leave because she thought he wasn’t good enough for Eliot. 

Her hand paused in its brushing. That wasn’t entirely true, was it? 

She thought Quentin wasn’t good enough for her.

Margo took a deep breath and added another two to the list. Margo was arrogant. Margo was selfish.

What made her superior to the people around her? She thought of her friends and allowed herself to consider them honestly.

Julia was a wonderful teacher, patient and kind. She would always take time out of her day to talk to anyone who needed a friendly ear.

Kady wanted everyone to be treated fairly and to have enough to survive. She made sure no one was cheated or taken advantage of.

Josh was good-natured and jovial, meeting every setback with a smile. He took his work seriously but wanted everyone to be happy.

Fen — for all Margo’s grumblings — was genuine. She treated everyone as though they were her best friend. She thought the best of everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it.

Eliot wore his heart on his sleeve. He’d certainly tried to hide it from Margo since she had made no secret of her dislike of showy feelings, but he loved with all his heart and no one could fail to see it.

Alice. There weren’t even words to describe everything that Alice was. Wise beyond her years, generous with her time as well her more worldly possessions, compassionate, gentle, gracious…

Margo didn’t deserve them.

She set her hairbrush back down and leaned forward until her nose was almost pressed to the glass, looking herself directly in the eyes.

“What are you going to do about it?”

It took a day to get to Marina’s estate and Margo was tired and irritable when she finally arrived, not least because she now had to spend time with Marina.

She was ushered into a dark entrance hall that made her shudder and she removed her gloves and hat while she waited to be announced. 

“What are you doing here?” Marina asked, appearing in the doorway the footman had disappeared through a moment earlier. 

“No niceties today, Marina? Can’t say I’m surprised. You were never one for manners.”

“You invited yourself to my house,” Marina pointed out. “That’s not especially polite.”

Margo shrugged one shoulder. “It’s worse than that. I’ve come to steal your tutor.”

Marina’s eyes narrowed to slits and she advanced on Margo. “You were the one who sent him to me.”

“It was a mistake,” Margo said, unconcerned. “Now I’m correcting it.”

“You can’t,” Marina protested. “He’s wonderful with the boys. They adore him.”

“You’ll find someone else. Quentin can probably recommend someone.”

“That’s not the point.”

Margo held up her hand as Marina growled her frustration.

“Rina, I’m sorry for the trouble but I should never have sent him to you. It was thoroughly selfish of me and…”

“And so is this.”

“I’m aware,” Margo said, surprising herself. “Please can I talk to Quentin now?”

Marina squared her shoulders, turned on her heel and marched imperiously away, leaving Margo in the hall with no invitation to even sit down.

Happily, it only took a few minutes for Quentin to appear.

“Miss Hanson?”

“Mr Coldwater,” Margo greeted him with a faint, determined smile. 

Quentin looked around the room as though expecting someone else to appear. “Um…”

“Could we talk outside, do you think?” she asked, suddenly in need of a moment to compose herself. 

They walked out through the front door and around the side of the house to a quiet garden, blooming with every colour of flower imaginable. They continued along the winding path for a moment until Margo felt Quentin relax ever so slightly.

“I want to apologise,” Margo said.

Quentin tripped, possibly over his own feet, and Margo reached out automatically to catch him.

“Shit.”

They both froze and Margo’s eyes widened in delight.

“Miss Hanson,” Quentin said quickly, mortification written clearly on his face. “Please forgive me. That was…”

“Wonderful,” Margo laughed. “Thank you.” She shook her head a little as she laughed and gave his hand a squeeze before she let go. “Now I know we’re going to be okay.”

“Do you?” Quentin’s face was still red but he didn’t seem impressed with Margo’s reassurances. “How exactly?”

“Quentin, will you please call me Margo?”

Quentin looked at her for a long time. “I don’t understand you.”

“I don’t understand you either,” Margo said and then sighed heavily. “You know, Julia spent years talking about you. Telling me what adventures you’d get up to as children. You were always so thrilling and vibrant in her tales.”

“So meeting me was a huge disappointment.”

Margo shook her head. “Not at all.” She slipped her arm through his and they continued their walk. “As time moved on she’d tell me how much she missed you, how she wished you’d come to visit, how much it hurt her when you changed your name.”

Quentin made a soft mewl of distress and Margo squeezed his arm. 

“I know, I know, you told me. But by then I was too angry with you to listen.”

They stopped at a bench underneath a tree at the far end of the garden and sat down. 

“You were so _meek_ when I met you and you spent most of the evening hiding from me. I couldn’t reconcile what I knew of you with the person standing in front of me. I thought you were being terribly rude. I thought you disliked me so I resolved to dislike you too.”

“I didn’t,” Quentin said quickly. “I don’t. Even after… Margo, you’re not the only one who spent years listening to Julia. She sings your praises every time we speak. Her letters were filled with you from the moment you met. She adores you. And I was scared. You’re intelligent, accomplished, good with people. I barely feel good enough to do half of what I have to and there you are, running an estate alone, dealing with tenants and throwing parties and talking to people as if that’s easy. It’s never been easy for me. I so desperately wanted to be your friend.”

Margo closed her eyes, a little surprised but mostly appalled at her previous behaviour.

“I’m so sorry, Quentin.”

Margo didn’t think she’d have been as gracious or as forgiving as Quentin was but she was grateful for his kindness when he lifted her hand and accepted her apology.

“You didn’t have to come all this way for that.”

“Oh, yes I did,” Margo assured him with a smile. “I’ve come to take you home.”

Quentin put up a token protest but Margo could see a flicker of relief in his eyes. She would deal with Marina, she told him, while he packed his things and said his goodbyes.

*

The drive back to St Lawrence was far more diverting than the one out had been. For one thing, once Quentin started talking about a subject he loved there was no stopping him and they discussed _The Mysteries of Udolpho_ and _The Castle of Otranto_ for most of the journey. Somewhere around hour three, Margo began to see what Eliot found so captivating about Quentin. He was passionate and fierce about what he loved in a way she understood all too well. She felt a pang of foolishness for denying herself his friendship for so long. 

They arrived back early the following morning and though Margo longed for a bath and her bed, she knew she had more to do before she could retreat to The Cottage.

She and Quentin leaned heavily against each other as they waited outside Julia’s front door for the bell to be answered.

Julia’s face ran from anger at seeing Margo, through surprise at seeing Quentin to a general confusion when she stepped back and allowed them inside. They shuffled through to the front room and Julia told them to sit before hurrying off to fetch them some tea.

“There’s bread if you’re hungry,” she told them, carrying a tray piled high with food back to them. “And cake. Scones. Fruit. Sorry, I didn’t know what you might want.” She poured them each some tea, then sat down heavily next to Quentin and hugged him. “What’s going on?”

“Quentin is going to take over from Mr Fogg at the school,” Margo said, picking up a piece of cake as delicately as she could when she was as hungry as she was. “Henry has been wanting to retire for years and now he can.”

“Margo has had a wonderful idea for offering free education to all children up to the age of fourteen,” Quentin said, his excitement for the idea glowing out of him, as it has been since Margo had first mentioned it. “I’ve been thinking of what should be included in the curriculum. You’ll help me, won’t you, Julia?”

Julia nodded slowly and smiled helplessly at Quentin’s enthusiasm. She met Margo’s eyes over Quentin’s shoulder. 

“Q, would you mind if I talked to Margo alone for a moment?”

Quentin shook his head, picked up his teacup and some of the bread rolls and excused himself, pausing in the doorway for a moment to say, “Thank you, Margo. See you tomorrow.”

The door clicked closed behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Margo said immediately and smiled when Julia’s mouth clicked closed. “I’m so very sorry for everything, Julia. You have been so good to me ever since we met and I know I’ve let you down. I have been selfish and arrogant and prejudiced and I know that’s not what you taught me. I will do everything I can to make it up to you.”

Tears glistened in Julia’s eyes for a moment and then she fell on Margo, clutching her close. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”

They talked quietly together for a little longer, Julia insistent that Margo should eat to replenish herself after two long days of travel. Margo did what she could to put Julia’s mind at rest. 

“Oh!” Julia exclaimed just as Margo thought she may fall asleep right there. “Oh, I forgot! How stupid of me. You’ll never believe what has happened.”

What had happened was Penny and Fen’s elopement, which stunned Margo for a good five minutes before she broke down into fits of laughter. Truly, she decided, this made Fen by far the most interesting she’d ever been and Margo couldn’t wait to talk to her about it when she returned from Gretna.

Kady and Julia had not been so thrilled about the possible scandal, nor had Hoberman who had dragged Eliot away to try and catch them.

“I don’t know why they felt the need to hide,” Julia confided. “We wouldn’t have stopped them. Indeed, Josh thinks it’s wonderful, he just wants them to do it properly.”

“Maybe they just wanted the excitement,” Margo said. “There won’t be a scandal. I’ll throw them a wedding breakfast when they return. No one will remember soon enough.” 

Another ten minutes and Margo’s eyelids began to droop and Julia bustled her out the door and bag into her carriage, eliciting a promise that Margo would return the next day to discuss the new school with Julia and Quentin.

Margo’s thoughts turned to Eliot on the short ride back to The Cottage. She had no idea when he’d be back from his adventure which foiled her plans somewhat. At least - she thought as the carriage stopped outside her house - by the time Eliot returned home, she might have worked out exactly what to say to him.

*

Eliot returned to St Lawrence after two weeks away, tired but happy for his cousin and her new husband who were now on their way to the lakes for their honeymoon. 

Upon discovering Fen’s elopement, Josh had worked himself into a state of vexation which Eliot had never imagined him able to achieve. Julia had cried and Kady had yelled and Eliot had tried to stay as far out of the way as he could, thinking about the letter that Fen had left for him which shared her love for Penny that had developed during their shared time in Canon, the way that they’d danced together, talked together, the numerous walks and drives he’d taken her on. She had not wanted to hurt Josh or Kady or Julia in any way, but Penny hadn’t believed that his family would approve of the match, which had led to their running away in the dead of night.

Eliot had thought it was romantic. The reactions of the others had prevented him from saying so.

As he and Josh had made the long drive north, he’d found himself thinking about Margo and how she would have handled the situation. He had no doubt that this would only improve her opinion of Fen and he imagined that she might have insisted on coming along and talking Josh down. She’d have done a much better job of it than Eliot.

Fen and Penny had been married for two days when Josh and Eliot found them. Eliot spent most of that morning with his arms around Fen, kissing the top of her head, while Josh and Penny argued in circles.

Eventually, Eliot had interrupted and pointed out that no amount of fighting was going to change the fact that they were married and they were happy. The best thing for everyone was to bless their union and pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.

Now, after another long and uncomfortable journey, Eliot sat on the edge of his bed and wished he could share the whole story with Margo and hear her laugh and see her eyes light up. He covered his face with a pillow and screamed into it. Why had things become so difficult?

There was a knock at the door and Eliot raised his voice to be heard through the pillow. “Come in.”

“There’s a letter for you, El.” 

Eliot sat up to see Josh holding out a letter to him. He looked even more tired than Eliot felt.

“Go to sleep,” Eliot insisted, grabbing the letter from Josh’s hand and then shooing him through the house to his room. “You need rest. You’re not to leave bed until tomorrow morning, that’s an order.”

Josh chuckled but did as he was bid. 

Eliot leaned against the wall outside his room and opened the letter.

_Come to the school. Julia_

Eliot had never been inside the school building and considered, as he stepped inside, how imposing it must feel to the tiny children attending with its wrought iron fence, grey stone building and intricately carved woodwork. He looked up at the beams in the ceiling as he walked down the short corridor, windows on one side and wood panels on the other. It was a nice building. Nicer than his school had been.

The children had clearly gone for the day and Eliot opened the door at the end of the corridor expecting to find Julia waiting for him.

Instead, he found Quentin.

“Oh.”

He must have spoken without realising, because Quentin’s head came up, the pile of papers he’d been diligently marking forgotten.

“Eliot.”

Quentin was out of his seat in a second and Eliot was spurred into motion, meeting Quentin halfway across the room and pulling him off his feet and into Eliot’s arms.

“What are you doing here?”

Quentin laughed and then, instead of answering, kissed him very firmly, moaning against his lips until Eliot came to his senses and kissed him back.

“Margo came and got me,” Quentin said a little while later as they sat, side by side, on his desk. “She apologised for everything. She set me up here in the school, with Julia, teaching everyone who wants to learn, free of charge. I think we’re friends now. She’s been here every day this week in fact, talking about gothic romance novels.”

Eliot picked up Quentin’s hand and played with his fingers. “Really?”

“Go and see her,” Quentin said, resting his chin on Eliot’s shoulder. “Go and fix things and then come back to me.”

Margo was sitting on the terrace at the back of The Cottage when Eliot was announced and she jumped up so quickly she almost spilt her tea. 

“Eliot!”

“Hello, Margo.”

So stunned was she by his appearance that it took a good minute for her to find her manners and offer him a seat and some tea. She poured him a cup with shaking hands, using the time to try and get her emotions under control.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come,” she said, once they were settled again. “I thought, after everything that happened…” She trailed off and then, seeing that he was about to speak, stiffened her resolve and ploughed ahead. “I’m so sorry for what I did to you and to Quentin. I was selfish and blind and I thought that I knew better what was best for you. I thought that Quentin wasn’t best for you and that was wrong. I should never have tried to keep you two apart. I should never have said what I did at the picnic. You were right to call me out.”

Eliot watched her for a moment and Margo felt her face heat up but held his gaze, determined. She was ashamed of how she had behaved in the past but she was not ashamed of this moment. She loved Eliot and he should know how sorry she was.

“Quentin told me you apologised to him.”

Margo nodded. “I was going to come straight to you when we got back but then Julia told me you were away looking for Fen.”

“Ah yes. The epic elopement.”

He reached for her hand and she took it, squeezing it tightly.

And just like that, things were good again.

“I can’t believe Fen ran away with Penny. Did you find them?”

“Oh yes. Eventually. They’re married.” He smiled and Margo laughed. “Josh was not happy but he’s coming around to it. I think he’ll be fine as long as there’s no scandal.”

“As I’ve already made clear to Julia, there will be no scandal. I’m throwing them a party as soon as they get back and there’s a house in the village that has just become available that I’m gifting them as a wedding present. This is the most I’ve liked Fen in about fifteen years.”

*

The next day, Margo rose early, dressed in her finest pink satin and set off for Remington.

Alice, she knew, was an early riser and she hoped to catch her before the rest of the household roused themselves and they were distracted by brothers or babies. 

She had spent a long time thinking of what she should say to Alice since the picnic. The words had spun around in her head until she’d thought herself dizzy. She knew she must apologise. Whatever else she said must repair the damage that she had caused their relationship. If there could never be anything else between them, Margo knew she needed Alice’s friendship in her life.

Happily, Alice was just leaving the house when Margo’s carriage drew up and she lingered at the bottom of the steps which Margo took to be a good sign.

“Good morning, Alice.”

“Good morning, Margo.”

The carriage drove off towards the stables and they were alone. 

“I was just going for a walk,” Alice said, pointing towards the river. “Would you like to join me?”

They set off in silence as Margo gathered her courage, finding it harder to begin the conversation with every step.

“I hear that Quentin is back in St Lawrence and working at the school,” Alice said, pre-empting her. “Julia tells me you want to educate all the children in the area, free of charge.”

“Julia wasn’t supposed to say anything,” Margo complained, quietly, but she looked hopefully at Alice when her friend laughed. 

“Well, Quentin was the one who let the cat out of the bag. I told you we were writing to each other. That’s never changed.”

Margo didn’t know why she felt surprised by the revelation. “Of course he did.”

Alice beamed at her. “I told you he liked all the same books as you.”

“You did indeed.”

“So, I was right.”

Margo stopped walking. “You were right about everything, Alice.”

“I wasn’t trying to…”

“I know you weren’t,” Margo interrupted. “But you were right and I want you to know that what you said affected me deeply. The last thing I would ever want to do is disappoint you.”

Alice tilted her head, watching her curiously. “You didn’t do this for me, did you.”

“No,” Margo said. “No, I did it because what you said was true. I was too quick to judge Quentin. I thought I knew what was best for Eliot. I’ve thought myself superior for so long and your words only highlighted the way I’ve been behaving. It’s not the way my father raised me. It’s not the way Julia raised me. I don’t know what happened but that’s not the person I want to be.”

Margo felt Alice take her hand and looked down, threading their fingers together with no little amount of relief.

“Margo, I need to tell you something.”

“No,” Margo said, taking a breath and raising her eyes again to Alice’s. “No, please let me.”

“If you must.”

“I must. I must. I’ve waited too long already. Alice, there is no one in the world I would rather spend the rest of my life with than you. You are dearer to me than anyone in the world and I would like to spend forever showing you just how much I love you.”

Alice’s eyes sparkled for a moment and she bit her lip. Margo squeezed her hand again, hoping that she hadn’t ruined everything.

“If you don’t feel the same way then, of course, I respect your wishes, but I should like, after a time, for us to remain friends. You, I find, are the one person it pains me most to be without.”

There was another heavy moment of silence.

“Alice, please, say something. I can’t bear this waiting.”

A laugh bubbled out of Alice, high and bright and Margo was equally charmed and irritated. 

“Why on earth are you laughing? I’m being sincere.”

“Oh, I know,” Alice said, raising her hands to cup Margo’s face. “I know, darling. I’m sorry. I’m just so pleased to know that you’ll always be you, even when baring your soul.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Margo said, leaning her head a little into Alice’s hands. 

“I need to make fun of you a little,” Alice laughed. “That’s the way we work.”

“Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

The smile on Alice’s face was answer enough for Margo, who proceeded to kiss the words from her lips.

**Epilogue**

Poppy thought that September was a terrible month to hold a wedding and spent a whole afternoon telling Alice at great length why she should definitely wait until the following spring to marry, if she really needed to marry at all.

Margo, upon hearing this, had written to Mr Todd and formally requested that she and Alice be married on the second Saturday in September.

“I suppose she has to be there?” Margo asked Eliot one afternoon while he helped her with the invitations.

“She’s Todd’s wife,” Eliot lamented, thrusting the invite none too gently into the envelope. “I suppose she must.”

They hadn’t invited a lot of people, just close friends and family. There would be a party in the evening in the town which everyone was welcome to attend, but the service itself would be small.

“I don’t really want to be married,” Margo said, turning the invitation she was holding over in her hands. “Don’t look at me like that. I want to be with Alice. I just don’t see why we have to be married to do it.”

Eliot smiled a little. “I want to be married.”

Margo kicked him. 

“Ow.”

“Why haven’t you asked him?”

“Don’t you think it’s a little soon?”

Margo pursed her lips and considered. 

“No. I think you’re being a big baby about the whole thing.” She threw the invitation down onto the table and sighed. “We’re going to have to redo them all.”

“Why?”

“Because we need to add yours and Quentin’s names. Double weddings are so much more fashionable.”

Eliot stared at her. “Margo I haven’t even asked him.”

“You’d better get on with that then,” she said with a sniff and that was the end of that.

The second Sunday of September was perfect wedding weather; the sun was shining and the breeze was light. The streets were filled with people, holding arches of white flowers overhead, cheering on the happiness of Margo and Alice, and Eliot and Quentin.

“I love you,” Margo whispered as Todd droned on for what felt like forever. “I don’t think I ever said.”

Alice’s laugh was far less discreet than Margo’s words had been and Todd stopped mid-sentence to glare at her while she composed herself.

“Stop interrupting him,” Eliot hissed, “or we’ll be here all day.”

The “oof” that followed could only have been the result of Quentin’s elbow digging into his ribs.

Margo grinned and gestured for Todd to continue, happy in the knowledge that everyone she loved was starting the same adventure with her.


End file.
